


The Life Domestic With John Wick: Vampiric Assassin - Thanksgiving

by Stephie



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: F/M, vampire!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 13:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16598855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stephie/pseuds/Stephie
Summary: Now that you and John are living under the same roof, daily life is now a lot more interesting... especially during the holidays. As you and John prepare for your first Thanksgiving as a not-quite-couple, you wind up taking on the challenging task of preparing a big Thanksgiving dinner for you, John and your sister’s family...





	1. I’ve Got 99 Problems... And Thanksgiving Is Every Last One

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Many thanks to @johnwickthirstclub and @imaginesandtea for the Vampire!John Wick AU. This idea has been in my head for a while, so why not run with it? Thanks so much for the inspiration, my dears… and also many thanks to the filmmakers and Lionsgate/Summit for bringing one of the most interesting characters in film to life.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you accept the task of holding a family Thanksgiving celebration at your house, you’re not exactly sure you can pull it off, but with John watching your back, what could possibly go wrong?

Reader’s POV…

You were sitting in the kitchen, glaring at the calendar on your cellphone, and feeling more than a bit frustrated. “It’s almost Thanksgiving,” you muttered, “and I haven’t even figured out what I want to fix for dinner.”

A defeated sigh escaped your lips, which was answered by a familiar voice, “What’s up? Something the matter?”

You looked up from your phone to see John entering the kitchen, wearing his ‘business casual’ uniform of black turtleneck sweater, grey jacket and grey pants.

‘Hey, John…” You gave him a smile as he took his place at the table. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” he replied, as he shifted a bit in the chair. “I thought I heard you say something about fixing Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Yeah, I did,” you replied, as you laid your phone down on the table. “Thanksgiving will be here before I know it, and I’m not sure what I want to do, or what to buy or even what to cook. Ever since I went back to work last month, I guess I’ve been paying more attention to my creative work than anything else.”

“Well, don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re simply getting yourself back to normal,” John began, “besides, Robert and Helen had Thanksgiving dinner here, and they invited the whole family. Didn’t you have Thanksgiving dinner with them?”

You thought about his question for a few minutes, then you said, “Yes, I had Thanksgiving dinner with them five years ago. After Aunt Helen got sick, holidays didn’t seem that important.”

“All right, then. How about having Thanksgiving dinner here, and inviting your family… including Mary Ann.”

The moment John said the words, your eyes widened in surprise. “Are you sure that’s a good idea,” you asked, “I mean… would that be okay?”

John leaned forward, and reached across the table to hold your hand. “I can’t think of a better way to start mending your relationship with her than inviting her and her family here for Thanksgiving,” he told you. “She might even appreciate the gesture.”

“I dunno if I should, John,” There was a note of hesitation in your voice, as you went on, “I’m not sure if they’re going to have dinner plans of their own.”

“You see that phone on the table,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you, “Why don’t you call her and ask?”

“Well… I’m not sure about…,” you began, but John interrupted you.

“Look, she’ll either tell you yes or no,” he said, “and wouldn’t it be better to ask her if she and her family have plans for Thanksgiving, instead of agonizing over it?”

“Johnathan Wick… you never cease to amaze me,” you said, giving him your loveliest smile. “You’re right, of course. I just feel weird about it, though.”

“Why do you feel ‘weird’ about it?”

“I’ve never cooked a huge meal before,” you confessed. “I’d been cooking for myself for quite a while, and it wasn’t until I moved in here that I started cooking for two. I’m not sure if I can pull off a big meal for more than two people.”

“Okay, tell you what,” he said, as he let go of your hand, “you call Mary Ann, and if she accepts your dinner invitation, we can take it from there.”

“You sure about that?” You were still rather hesitant about making the call, but John wasn’t about to let you off the hook that easily.

“Yes, I am,” he said, his voice quiet, yet firm. “Call her. Now.”

“Okay…” You picked up the phone, and dialed Mary Ann’s number. If you were hoping that she wouldn’t answer, your hopes were dashed when her voice came from the speaker.

“Hello, Baby Sis,” she said, her voice holding a note of cheerfulness that you weren’t quite used to. “How are you?”

“Oh, uh… I’m fine,” you said, giving John a wary glance, which he returned with a small smile. “I was wondering if… uhm… you and your family were doing anything special for Thanksgiving?”

“Well, we really hadn’t had anything planned for the holiday,” she replied, “Why are you asking?”

You took a deep breath, then said, “I was wondering if you and your family would like to come over to my house for Thanksgiving dinner.” The words seemed to tumble out of your mouth, and you weren’t exactly sure if she understood what you said. What she said next pretty much confirmed that she’d heard every word you said.

“Oh, really?” Mary Ann said, her voice filled with enthusiasm, “That would be wonderful! Thank you for thinking about us. Mike and his family will be going to Los Angeles to visit their in-laws for the holiday, so having dinner with you would be perfect!”

The rest of the conversation was a blur, with the only words coming from your mouth were “okay”, “sure” and “bye!” You hung up the phone and gazed at John, who was still smiling at you.

“So, what now, John?” you asked as you buried your head in your hands, “I’m supposed to prepare dinner for nine to ten people, and I don’t have a clue about what to prepare.”

He got up from the table and knelt on the floor next to your chair. With a gentle touch, he pulled your hands away from your face, and gazed into your eyes.

“I believe that you can do this,” he said, his voice kind and reassuring, “Didn’t you help Robert and Helen prepare dinner?”

“Yes, I did, but they did all the shopping,” you told him, “All I had to do was scrub vegetables, peel and slice them. They did the bulk of the cooking.”

John chuckled softly, “I remember that, and I felt so bad that I was awake after you were gone.”

“That’s the problem,” you said, sighing a bit, “I’ll need help with preparing dinner, and you’re not going to be available to help me out, because you’ll be asleep all day.”

“One of the good things about the change from Daylight Savings back to Standard time is that it gets dark earlier, so, I’ll be able to help you out with the cooking and the shopping,” John’s smile was reassuring, and it made you feel a little better. “I know you can do this, Beloved.”

The moment he said those words, you felt a great weight being lifted from your shoulders. With a plan in mind, and John’s assistance, you were starting to feel a bit more confident about pulling off a successful holiday dinner.

“So, the first thing we should do is make out a list and figure out what they’d like?” Despite John’s calming words, your mind was spinning with ideas, and you weren’t exactly sure where to begin.

“From the way Mary Ann sounded, she and her family would enjoy anything you prepared,” he said, holding your hands, “so, we can start from there.”

“Thanks, John. You have no idea what your help means to me.”

“You’re welcome…” He got up from the floor, gently let go of your hands, and sat at the table. “Now, I think we should talk about what you’d like to serve, so we can figure out a budget which will work for us.”

“All right,” you replied, “but… don’t you have a job lined up or something? I mean… you’re dressed like you’re about to go to work, and…”

“I can afford to take the night off and help you with this,” he told you, his eagerness to take on a more pleasant task clearly evident, “So, let’s talk about what you’d like to serve, and then… we check the grocery store ads, and see what’s on sale. Deal?”

“Deal!” You bounded out of the kitchen, and headed towards your workshop. You picked up the tablet from your work table, unplugged the charging cable, then, it was back to the kitchen table where you and John started talking about dinner, and checking the grocery store ads.


	2. Our Memories Are Spun Out Of Pure Gold And Sweet Stardust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you and John start preparing to shop for the holiday meal, the two of you spend some time sharing memories of the past... and enjoying the warmth of happier times, which brings you even closer.

Reader’s POV…

The Following Evening…

After your long, but fulfilling, day at work, you were happy to get home and enjoy an evening of relaxation. As you entered the kitchen, and turned on the light, there was a neatly arranged stack of weekly ads from several grocery stores resting on top of the table.

You looked at the stack of papers, and found a note attached to the top of it which read,

“Beloved…

Here’s all of the grocery store sale papers I could find. They should help us put our shopping list together, and keep our budget in line. I had to take care of a little business, but I’ll be back shortly.

Don’t start shopping without me, okay?

Love, John.”

A smile slipped across your face as you laid the note on the table, and started preparing the evening meal. As you poked through the refrigerator to find the ingredients, you made a mental list of what would be needed not only for the holiday, but also for the days before and after the holidays.

Your foraging mission was briefly interrupted when the back porch door was closed, and a familiar voice said, “I’m back. Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

“Nope,” you replied with a grin, as you placed the food on the table. “I was waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” John gave you a light kiss on the forehead, before he took off his jacket, laid it on the back of a nearby chair, and sat at the table. It had become such a comfortable routine for him, and while you busied yourself with preparing dinner, the whole scene felt so familiar, as if you’d been graciously preparing a meal for the two of you for a very long time.

“Dare I ask what’s on tonight’s menu?” A hint of good natured teasing was in his voice, and you giggled as he continued, “Or is that a big surprise?”

“Not really,” you replied, as you carefully placed the cast-iron skillet on top of the stove, “Tonight, we’re having baked spaghetti with chicken. Is that okay?”

“Sounds delightful,” he said, while you carefully sliced the chicken breasts, seasoned them and put them in the skillet. While you worked, you managed to ask John about his day, and even though he didn’t tell you very much in regards to how things went, he told you just enough to make what he actually did for a living sound routine enough to gently end any additional questioning.

“Have you thought about what you’d like to serve yet,” John’s swift change of subject didn’t annoy you; he probably did the same thing when Uncle Robert or Aunt Helen asked him how his day had been.

You understood that he wanted to protect you from the seedier side of his profession, in the same way he had protected your aunt and uncle. They respected his decision not to be too forthcoming about his nightly missions, so you did the same.

“I’m torn between roasting a couple of big chickens and a turkey,” you said, as a pot filled with spaghetti slowly came to a boil, and the fried chicken slices were draining on a nearby plate. “I’d probably feel a bit more confident about cooking the chickens, because one of the things I didn’t always like about Thanksgiving was that someone would always overcook the turkey, and it tasted like seasoned wood chips.”

John’s laugh filled the room, and you couldn’t help giggling. “Come on. Seriously?” His voice still held a tinge of amusement, “Who’d do such a thing to a poor innocent turkey?”

“My dad overcooked the turkey during one Thanksgiving when I was young,” you told him, while rummaging in the cabinet for a baking dish, “and it was a disaster! He decided to cook the turkey in the oven overnight, and instead of setting the oven to one hundred and fifty degrees, he set it at four hundred degrees.”

“Oh, no.. “ John chuckled softly, “What happened to the turkey?”

“Well…” you replied, “the kitchen was filled with smoke, the turkey was burned to a crisp, and no one could eat it. It wasn’t one of my dad’s greatest culinary moments.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry that happened,” John’s voice still had a note of amusement, which made you smile. “So, what did you end up having for Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Believe it or not,” you said, as you sat at the table for a few minutes, “Uncle Robert had prepared four turkeys, two of which were for his colleagues to serve at the university’s annual Thanksgiving Day dinner for faculty and students who weren’t able to go home for the holiday.”

“So, what about dinner? Did your family have a backup plan?” John was genuinely interested in your story, which gave you plenty of encouragement to continue.

“Dad knew about the university’s dinner, so he called Uncle Robert, over Mom’s objections,” you told him, “He wanted to know if there would be room for us to join him and Aunt Helen at the dining hall, and that’s when Dad told him about the burned turkey.”

“Really? So what happened next?”

“Uncle Robert told him there was an extra turkey, if he wanted it,” you said, poking at the stack of papers with your right hand. “So, he and I went over to the house to pick it up, along with a few other goodies that were left over after Aunt Helen had packed up all of the pans.”

“That was very kind of Robert and Helen to do that for your family.” he said, gazing at you intently. “What did your mother have to say about it?”

Your eyes glanced at the table for a moment before you went on, “She pitched a fit about it, but Dad said it was a blessing that someone in the family had extra food to share with us, and Thanksgiving means being grateful for those small blessings, no matter who they come from.”

The kitchen was quiet after you spoke, and the silence was broken when John said, “That was one of many things that I - I loved about Robert and Helen. Their kindness meant a great deal to me, as it did to you and your family. We were very fortunate to have them in our lives.”

“I know…” Your voice was soft, and quiet, matching the thoughtful, reflective mood of the moment.

The emotion in his voice was matched by the expression on his face. His eyes were filled with pain, but there was also something else you noticed, and that was the depth of feelings he had for them, as well as for you. In that moment, you were convinced that he would sacrifice himself for you, just as he would have done for them.

Another moment of silence passed, then you silently got up from the table, and went back to preparing dinner. Once you put the pan of spaghetti, loaded with chicken, tomatoes, and topped with mozzarella, into the oven, you resumed your place at the table.

“Well,” you said, pulling out one of the sale papers from the stack, and giving it a careful glance, “so, are you ready to plan our shopping trip, or would you rather wait until after dinner?”

“I suppose we can talk about what’s on sale, and get a few ideas,” he said, watching you put the paper on the table, and give the front page a careful look. “Is there anything you had in mind?”

“I’d like to serve some macaroni and cheese.” A smile was on your lips as you gave it some thought. “That’s one of the dishes I was especially good at making as I got older. It got to the point where it wasn’t a holiday without my mac and cheese on the menu.”

“Did you make mac and cheese for Robert and Helen during the holiday, too?” he asked, curious about your family’s holiday traditions.

“Yes, I did,” you said, getting up from the table to check on the spaghetti in the oven. “After Mom passed away, Dad and I would go to see Uncle Robert and Aunt Helen for Thanksgiving. Mike and his family would also come by, but Mary Ann was so bitchy about it.”

“She had no reason to be like that,” John noted, as he watched you put on a pair of oven mitts, open the oven door, take out the pan of spaghetti, and put it on top of the stove. The aroma of spices and melted cheese filled the kitchen, and after you took your place at the table again, he went on, “Didn’t she realize what she was missing out on?”

“She was always loyal to Mom, and she saw our reaching out to Uncle Robert and Aunt Helen as some sort of betrayal, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, then said, “I understood why Mom felt that way about Aunt Helen, because she got to live the life Mom always wanted, and envied.”

“I know,” he said, looking down at his hands for a moment, before shifting his gaze back to you. “Anger, envy and jealousy can burn you up inside. I should know, shouldn’t I? I let them get the worst of me a long time ago, and in the process, I lost everything.”

“I’m so sorry about that, John…” you said, reaching across the table to hold his hand. From the strange dreams you had experienced recently, you knew he had once held a position of honor in the mystical realm where both of you once lived, but his envy, anger and jealousy consumed him, and in a fateful moment, he joined an ill-fated rebellion, and paid a heavy price for having done so.

“Sometimes, we end up learning the hard way that jealousy and envy can cause us to miss so much of life,” you observed, “and it’s only when you let it go, as hard as it may be to do, that life starts changing for the better.”

“I know that, now,” he said, gently squeezing your hand in response, “It took me a long time to finally figure that out.”

You smiled, and replied, “I’m glad you did figure it out, John. Otherwise, you might have missed out on meeting my uncle and aunt, and they would have missed out on meeting you… and so would I.”

After you spoke, the comfortable silence both of you had become accustomed to covered the kitchen like a warm, cozy comforter, and it was at that particular moment you realized that nothing happened merely by chance or coincidence. You and John were brought together for a reason, and that thought made you feel thankful.

The chiming of the timer on the stove broke the silence, which was your cue to let John’s hand slip out of your grasp, as you slowly got up from the table, and started putting the finishing touches on the meal. He also got up from the table, went to the cupboard, and took two plates from it. They were placed on the table with great care, along with two sets of knives and forks.

You’d finished preparing the broccoli, and as you placed the steaming pan of spaghetti on the table, John sat down, and waited patiently for you to help his plate.

Once you finished serving the food, and getting a pitcher of cold green tea from the refrigerator, along with a couple of glasses from the cupboard, you sat at the table, poured the tea, gave a glass to John, and started enjoying the meal.

The dinner time conversation was so much fun that even after the meal ended, you and John were still talking while you cleaned up. He tried out a couple of hilariously bad ‘dad jokes’ on you which made you roll your eyes and groan, before you started laughing.

“I’m pretty sure if you told that octopus joke to the kids, they’d probably groan and laugh,” you said, gathering up the grocery sale papers, and taking them to the dining room.

“Why not? I think I’m good at it,” His eyes sparkled with mischievous delight, as both of you sat at the table, with the sale papers spread out before you, along with a notebook and pencil you picked up from the top of the desk in the living room.

“Okay, you’re on,” you said, a smile lighting up your face, “If you can tell a joke to the kids, and they laugh, that will definitely make you a cool guy.”

“Great!” John’s enthusiasm was contagious, and as both of you carefully read through the grocery ads, you were making out your list, noting what you’d need to prepare the holiday meal, as well as what you’d need afterwards.

By the time you finished writing out your list, John let out a respectful whistle. “Looks like you’ve got everything covered,” he said, as he read through the list, “and I have enough money to pay for the groceries. It’s the least I can do to help out.”

“Thanks, John, I appreciate it,” you said, as he handed the list back to you. “We’ll be able to get everything we need at two stores, so traveling shouldn’t be too difficult. When did you want to go? After all, I’ll need help bringing in the groceries.”

He thought about it for a moment, then said, “Since both stores close at midnight, why don’t we go tomorrow evening? I think six o’clock would be a good time to go. Fewer crowds, and we’ll be able to get in and out easily.”

“All right, that sounds like a good idea,” you told him, while you laid the list on top of the table. “We’ll have plenty of time to shop, and we won’t be so rushed.”

“Great…” He got up from the table, and you followed suit.

“Do you have a job this evening?” you asked, giving him a curious look. “You’re wearing your three piece suit, and looking rather sharp, I must say.”

“I have a couple of errands to run, so it’s nothing for you to worry about,” His voice was kind and reassuring, and it made you feel a little better. “I’ll be back in a few hours, okay?”

“Okay, John,” Despite your initial feeling of relief, there was a part of you that couldn’t help worrying about him. Even though his fearsome reputation preceded him, you still felt that twinge of anxiety whenever he was about to leave for another assignment.

“Bye,” His lips gently brushed against your forehead for a moment, then, he seemed to vanish before your eyes, effortlessly slipping into the shadows.

“I’ll never get used to that,” you murmured, as you headed off to your workroom. “It’s still the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, or not seen…”


	3. Sweeping Through The Supermarket... And An Uncomfortable Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and John are at the supermarket, ready to buy what you’ll need for Thanksgiving dinner, but it’s not easy when a vampire is dazzled by the wide variety of goodies available, someone from your past decides to resurrect a dead relationship by getting a bit too fresh with you in - of all places - the produce department, and John decides to handle the situation in his own unique way...

Reader’s POV…

The Next Evening…

You were in the kitchen, going over your shopping list one more time to make sure you didn’t forget anything. Your keys and wristlet were resting on top of the table, and your pink hoodie was hanging from the back of a nearby chair. You were ready to embark on your shopping expedition, and so was John, when he emerged from the basement, wearing a brown leather jacket, blue jeans and his favorite white Henley shirt and tan work boots.

“Hey, John!” You greeted him with a smile as he approached you, and gave you a gentle hug. “You ready to go shopping?”

“Yes, I am. Are you ready?” he replied, as you got dressed, and made sure your shopping list was in your jacket pocket. The keys and wristlet were in your hands, and you were all set.

“I am, so let’s go.” Both of you left the house, and got into your car, which was considerably roomier than his Mustang. Once you pulled out of the driveway, and were cruising down the street, you were surprised by the number of Christmas decorations which were being placed in front of several houses and businesses.

“Geez… it’s past Halloween and almost Thanksgiving, and the Christmas stuff is out already,” you observed. “Isn’t that rushing things a bit?”

“Apparently not,” he shrugged. “They were putting the finishing touches on the city’s Christmas tree at Millennium Park last night. The scent of pine filled the air, and it was really nice, especially after driving down North Michigan Avenue, and seeing every tree along the sidewalk lit up.”

“That’s wonderful…,” you giggled, while approaching the first store on your route, “Fresh cut pine always smells good, which is why we have pine scented hand soaps and air freshener sprays.”

“Are you going to get any?” He gave you a grin, which you returned with a smile, “It would be nice to have a bottle in the bathroom and kitchen.”

“We’ll see,” You carefully made your way around the store’s parking lot until you located a spot which was well-lit, and not too far from the entrance. Once you pulled into the space, you continued, “They also had some peppermint scented hand soap, which might be better in the kitchen.”

“If they have it, I’ll get two bottles each,” he told you, as you both got out of the car. The doors were locked, the alarm set, and you made your way into the huge grocery store. Once you got inside, John grabbed a shopping cart, wheeled it over to you, and your shopping expedition was underway

———————

John’s POV…

Despite his long life, there was still so much about this new century which amazed him. As he and Beloved walked down the front aisle, he was surprised to see Christmas and Thanksgiving decorations hanging from the shelves.

“Do they know what season it is?” A note of bemusement was in his voice as she took two loaves of bread from the shelf, and placed them in the cart. “It would be nice to celebrate one holiday at a time.”

“There’s only one season, John,” she chuckled, while they walked to the deli counter, “and that’s the season of making money. So, they’re going to make the most of it.”

“I guess so,” he said, peering into the deli case, and silently marveling over the wide array of meats, cheeses, salads and desserts. “What are you going to get from here?”

“I’d like to get some sliced turkey, a pound of swiss cheese, maybe a pound of turkey ham, and some bologna.” She stood in front of the deli counter, glancing at her list for a moment, before the clerk approached her, and asked her what she wanted.

While she was ordering her selections, John took the opportunity to look at the assortment of salads and desserts. The salads ranged from creamy to oil-drenched, and the desserts were in every flavor imaginable. After a moment or so, John turned to Beloved and asked, “I’d like some of this chocolate pudding. It looks so appealing.”

“Are you sure?” There was a note of hesitation in her voice, “I mean, you’re not always ‘Mr. Dessert Guy’.”

“Well, I’d like to try it,” he replied, “just to see what it’s like.”

“All right, then.” She took the packages of meats and cheese from the clerk, put them in the cart, then asked for a pint of chocolate pudding. Once she got the cup of pudding, it was placed inside the cart, and she moved to her next stop, the produce department, with John just a few steps behind her.

“Were you looking for some green beans?” John’s attention was focused on a small mountain of fresh green beans neatly arranged in the middle of the vegetable cooler. “Or did you want something else?”

“I thought about getting some green beans,” she said, carefully scrutinizing a bunch of broccoli before putting in a plastic bag, “but I prefer broccoli. Much easier to cook than a green bean casserole.”

“Green bean casserole?” The confused look on his face made her giggle, as he went on, “What in the world is that?”

“Well, it’s made with cream of mushroom soup, cooked green beans and fried onions.” While she spoke, the last bunch of broccoli was placed in the plastic bag, carefully tied up, and put in the cart. “It’s not bad, but it depends on who’s cooking it. Same for chitterlings.”

“I know I’ll regret asking this,” John said, as he did his best not to groan too loudly, “but what exactly are ‘chitterlings’?

“Pork intestines.”

The look John gave her after she’d said it was more than enough to make her laugh out loud. “I don’t mean to laugh, but the look on your face is priceless,” she said, as she struggled to keep a straight face. “That was another one of my dad’s Thanksgiving dinner ideas that fell flat. I didn’t like them because they stunk up the whole house when they’re cooked, and you have to clean them thoroughly before they can be cooked. Ew!”

“Uh… did you eat any of those things?”

“No,” she said, a shake of her head further emphazing her distaste of the delicacy. “I couldn’t do it. The smell made all of us kids sick.”

“Okay...,” he said, still somewhat confused by it all, “I’m going to get a bag of onions. I’ll be right back.”

———————-

Reader’s POV…

While you were debating on whether to pick up a few avocados to make some fresh guacamole, a voice from behind you said, “Well, look who I found. Never thought I’d see you again.”

You turned around to see your ex-boyfriend, Sebastian, giving you the cheesiest of grins, which you returned with a faint smile. “What are you doing here,” you asked, curious as to why he had sought you out, “Last time I checked, you were with Susan, after we were over.”

“We broke up,” he said, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “She was okay, but I came to realize that she’s not you. I was hoping that we might get together over the holiday, and… rekindle that old flame.”

“No, that’s not going to happen.” Your voice was much colder than you expected, but Sebastian was the guy who left you more than he loved you, and you broke up with him before he could hurt you again. Despite his puppy dog charm, there was a reason why you called him “Sebastard”, and no amount of his smooth talk and studied charm would make you change your mind about taking him back.

“C’mon, babe, you’ve got enough groceries to feed an army,” he said, his smile still in place, “you must have Thanksgiving dinner planned, so I was wondering... am I invited?”

“I do, but it’s a family Thanksgiving dinner, and you’re not invited.” You gripped the handles of the shopping cart, and your wristlet more tightly than you expected, as you struggled to keep calm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some shopping to get done.”

As you pushed the cart forward towards the meat department, he grabbed your left arm, saying, “That’s not the way you treat your ex, babe, leaving without saying ‘goodbye’. You can be nicer to me than that.”

Before you could say a word, John materialized behind him, and said quietly, “She told you she has shopping to do, so leave her alone, and let her finish.”

Sebastian released your arm, and swung around to face the stranger who was standing behind him. “Oh yeah?” You could hear the sneering in his voice, but you stayed where you were, and waited to see what was about to happen.

“Yeah,” the stranger replied, his voice still calm and quiet, “Leave. Her. Alone. She wasn’t bothering you.”

“She’s my ex, and I can bother her whenever I want, pal,” Sebastian’s bravado was on full display, but it was cut short when the stranger suddenly unleashed a nasty left-handed smack to his jaw. The blow sent Sebastian sprawling onto the floor, and the stranger regarded him with an unnerving calm.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave her alone,” the stranger told him, “she’s mine, and I don’t appreciate it when someone harasses her.” He turned towards you, and said, “Let’s go.”

You and John quickly left the produce section, as Sebastian stil lay on the floor, moaning and holding his jaw as he struggled to sit up.

Once you finished up your shopping, you were standing in the checkout line as an ambulance pulled up in front of the store. You silently watched as a stretcher was wheeled out, accompanied by a long string of moans from the occupant of the stretcher.

“Thank you, John,” you whispered, as you placed your purchases on the conveyor belt. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“He was harassing you,” he whispered back, “and I don’t like seeing it happen to you.”

“I know, and I appreciate it.” You understood that John was in ‘protective mode’, and he wasn’t about to let any harm come to you. It made you realize just how much he cared about you, and that knowledge made you feel blessed.

Once the groceries were paid for and bagged up, you wheeled the cart into the lot, unlocked the doors, turned off the alarm, and loaded the car. After you finished, John checked the tires, and the back seat before you got in. You drove off to your next destination, grateful that John was riding along with you.


	4. Over The River, And Not Out Of The Woods Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sudden reappearance of your ex has you more than a little spooked out, which makes your holiday dinner preparations even more stressful, so John decides to take matters into his own hands when an old friend needs his help.

Reader’s POV…

On The Road Back Home…

As you made your way home after your two-store shopping expedition, John asked you a question you didn’t see coming.

“Who was that guy who was bothering you at the store?”

You sighed, then replied, “That was my ex-boyfriend, Sebastian. He started out as a charming guy when we met six years ago, but he was also kinda crazy, which scared me enough to break up with him almost a year after we met.”

“In what way did he scare you, Beloved?” John’s curiosity about your past wasn’t totally unexpected. After all, he did tell you about some of his past, so you returned the gesture.

“He had a wandering eye, and was also very handsy when he was with other women,” you replied, “but if I said ‘hello’ to a man, or had a conversation with them, he’d suddenly get needy, overly possessive and extremely jealous. It made it difficult for me to get any sales going at the various shows we did, because he was always watching me when I spoke to anyone, and when I did, he’d do his best to butt in.”

“Was he one of your co-workers?” he asked, as his voice took on a note of genuine concern for your welfare. “It must have been hard to deal with him every day.”

“No, he didn’t work at the Collective, but he worked for a public relations firm which used to handle advertising and publicity for us, and he was present at quite a few of the shows and events we’d participate in,” you explained, “The PR firm he used to work for fired him when they found out that he had embezzled monies from several business accounts, including ours.”

“So, what happened?” John’s curiosity grew with each new revelation, and he wondered what else he needed to know. “Did he get a new job?”

“That’s the weird part,” you said, as you turned a corner, and drove down the street towards your house, “No one’s been able to figure out what he does for a living. He still wears expensive clothes and shoes, but where the money comes from for him to dress and live extravagantly is definitely a question mark. He’s not the kind of guy who’d live in a cramped room in an attic, or buy his clothes from the thrift store.”

As you pulled the car up into the driveway, towards the car port, you continued, “There’s plenty of rumors about him that’s been floating around for the past three or four years, though.”

“Like what?”

“Well, the most persistent rumor is that he’s working for either the Italian or Russian Mob,” you said, putting the car in ‘park’ and shutting off the engine. “Why a bunch of mobsters would need a PR guy is a mystery to me, unless they were attempting to clean up their image.”

“Anything’s possible, you know,” John unfastened his seatbelt, and got out of the car, with you following suit. Once you got out of the car, he asked, “Does he know where you’re living now?”

“No, not that I’m aware of,” you told him, as you pressed a button on your key fob, and the trunk lid slowly swung upwards. “We were over long before he got fired, but I understand what you mean.”

You walked towards the front door, keys in hand, and John followed you, carrying several bags of groceries. The living room lights were on, and as you turned the keys in the locks, you felt a bit more anxious than usual, due to Sebastian’s sudden reappearance.

The doors swung open, and as you stepped inside, you took a quick look around the living and dining rooms. Everything was exactly where you left it, and as the two of you went to the kitchen, you flipped on the ceiling light, and the room lit up with brilliant warmth.

John put the bags down on the floor, then said, “I’ll bring in the rest of the groceries.”

“Thanks, John.” You slipped off your hoodie, draped it over the back of the chair, and sat down in order to check all of your purchases. After three more trips outside, John brought in the last of the groceries, and you pressed the buttons on your key fob to close the trunk, lock the car and set the alarm.

Once you heard the chirping of the car alarm, you felt more at ease, and as you and John put the groceries away, your earlier anxiety had faded away. The refrigerator and back porch freezer were filled with food, and the sense of getting most of your work accomplished gave you a sense of humble pride.

“I think we had a very successful evening, don’t you agree,” you asked John after both of you sat at the table, “in spite of Sebastard showing up and attempting to start some trouble.”

“‘Sebastard’?” John tried not to laugh when you said the name, but he failed miserably, which made you giggle. “Why would you call him that?”

“Because he’s a low-down, jealous, scheming bastard,” you replied, as your voice took on a more serious tone, “and I’m not about to rekindle a relationship which was turning into something unhealthy for me. I don’t want to deal with him again.”

“You don’t have to,” he said, as he took your hand and gazed into your eyes, “I won’t let anything happen to you. You mean everything to me, and it would… devastate me if I lost you again.”

“You won’t lose me, John.” You squeezed his hand in response, and his smile gave you a sense of warmth and comfort. “I never thought my new best friend would be a vampire, but I consider you to be my best friend.”

“And you’re my best friend, too.” John’s voice was full of emotion as he spoke, and you knew it was absolutely true.

You had grown accustomed to the comfortable silence which came after the two of you had an emotional moment, and it was something you cherished. The silence between the two of you spoke volumes, and nothing else needed to be said.

However, the silence didn’t last long, as it was chased away by the ringing of John’s cellphone. He let go of your hand long enough to take the phone out of his jacket pocket and look at the screen. The name ‘Cassian’ appeared, and John immediately answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, John,” Cassian said, “I’ve got a favor I want to ask you.”

“Hold on a second,” John got up from the table, then he turned to you, and said, “Got some business to attend to. Hope you don’t mind.”

“That’s okay,” you told him. “I’m going make a couple of sandwiches, and heat up a couple of cans of soup. Would you like some?”

“No, thank you,” he said, “I may be doing some business tonight, and it’s also time for me to make a dinner reservation.”

“Okay, then,” You got up from the table, “You take care of your business, and we’ll talk later.”

“Thanks…” John gave you a light kiss on the cheek before he headed downstairs to his room, and you went to the refrigerator to get the fixings for your sandwiches.

—————————

John’s POV…

“So, what’s up, Cassian?” John asked as he entered his bedroom, and plugged his phone into the charging cable, “Something going on?”

“Yeah,” he said, “One of Justin diGiovanni’s guys is in the hospital. Word is that he got the shit punched out of him. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“He was bothering my friend while we were out shopping,” John told him, after he sat down on the side of his bed, “She asked him to leave her alone, but he was insistent. So, I hit him when he wouldn’t let her go.”

A hearty laugh echoed from the other end of the line, then Cassian continued, “You were the one who hit him? From what I heard, the paramedics found Sebastian sprawled on the floor in the produce department, moaning and holding his jaw.”

“So, what happened after he was taken from the store?” John asked, curious about the aftermath of their unpleasant encounter, “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’ll be eating soft foods for quite a while,” Cassian informed him, “He suffered a broken right jaw, and a couple lower back teeth are missing. Otherwise, he’s fine.”

“Has Justin put out a contract on the person who hit him?” John’s concern was warranted, primarily because he wanted to keep Beloved safe, and not put her in any danger.

“No, he hasn’t, and it’s likely he won’t,” Cassian told him, a faint chuckle in his voice, “There were witnesses at the store who saw Sebastian bothering her, and when he grabbed her arm, she resisted him, and that’s when you hit him. Justin’s had problems with him ever since he hired him four years ago to take care of public relations for his legitimate businesses.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Cassian replied, “He’s been getting complaints from everyone about the way he’s not been handling his business dealings. There’s even been rumors about him embezzling funds, but without proof to back it up, it’s nothing but rumors.”

“Thought so,” John said, as he got himself comfortable, “Are you workin’ for Justin diGiovanni now?”

“I am, but it’s on a part-time basis,” was Cassian’s response to the question, “I did some freelance work for a while, but it was better in the long run to have a regular employer, and a steady income. You still with Vasilovitch?”

“Yeah, I am,” A sigh escaped John’s lips while he spoke, “So, what’s this favor you want me to do?”


	5. How Do You Solve A Problem Like Sebastian?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When an old friend calls in a favor, John decides to help him out, and together, they’re going to make sure your ex is out of the picture before he can think about doing harm to you, even after you’d made it very clear you didn’t want him back in your life.

John’s POV…

One Minute Later…

“So, what’s this favor you’re asking me to do, Cassian?” John’s curiosity was already on alert, especially after he mentioned that Sebastian was in the hospital.

“Justin wants him out of the organization as soon as possible,” Cassian told him, “but he doesn’t want the order for Sebastian’s ‘departure’ to go through the Continental’s Head Office. The last thing he wants is to have everyone in Chicago going after him if he opens an account.”

“Okay, I understand that. He wants Sebastian to be removed as discreetly as possible,” John said, as several ideas came to mind, “but, is there a time limit on how quickly he can be removed?”

“Within the next few days; at least, that’s the proposed timeline,” Cassian said, sighing a little. “The only bad news is making sure he can be removed from the hospital without anyone noticing that he’s gone.”

“Well, as long as he’s heavily sedated, that would help matters considerably,” John had already come up with a couple of ideas, which led him to ask, “Is he sedated, and is he under a doctor’s care? His mouth is going to be wired shut because of his broken jaw, so he won’t be able to make any noise.”

“He’s under heavy sedation, and Justin’s already arranged for his continued treatment when we drop him off at the rendezvous point,” Cassian told him, “He wants him out of the city before he becomes a liability that the diGiovanni’s can’t continue to afford.”

“All right, but I’m wondering why you asked about me still working for Vasilovitch,” This was something which stuck in John’s mind, and he couldn’t help wondering what his current boss had to do with the plan. “I thought this was Justin’s idea.”

“It is, but doesn’t Vasilovitch own a trucking company, or something similar?”

“He’s got interests in several transportation companies,” John said, “You think we’ll need a hospital room on wheels to transport him?”

“Probably, but nothing too big,” Cassian replied, “Like a private ambulance. Does your boss have one? If he does, that would make transporting him out of the hospital much easier.”

John was silent for a moment, then he said, “Anton owns a private ambulance service, so it shouldn’t be a problem ‘borrowing’ an ambulance for a few hours.”

After a slightly longer moment of silence, Cassian said, “Justin wants him sent to Gary, Indiana. Once we get him there, the guys from New York will handle the rest of the job.”

“Well, it sounds easy enough, but it’s going to take careful timing in order to carry it out successfully,” John observed, “When does he want it done?”

“On the seventeenth, which is on Saturday,” Cassian told him, “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, it shouldn’t be a problem,” John replied, after checking the calendar on his phone, “B.’s family will be here at the house for Thanksgiving dinner, and the job should be finished long before then.”

“Am I invited?” Cassian asked, which brought a smile to John’s face. “Haven’t had a home cooked holiday meal in a long time.”

“I can ask her if she wouldn’t mind making room at the table for one more,” John said, “Did you want to meet at the usual place to go over our plans, or were you going to wait for more information first?”

“I should have some more information about what’s going on tomorrow,” John had learned to trust Cassian’s instincts when it came to doing certain jobs, and he respected his judgment. “But it’s not a bad idea to get things lined up, so we can hit the ground running when we get the word.”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do,” he said, as he checked his list of contacts, “Is there anything else you need?”

“I think the important things been covered, so just make sure everything’s ready.” Cassian said, sounding cautiously optimistic about the plan. “Once I know more, we can get things in motion.”

“All right, then. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

“Bye, John,” Cassian hung up, and John heaved a deep sigh. He hadn’t expected one of Justin diGiovanni’s employees to have a personal connection to Beloved, and considering the way he treated her at the grocery store, there was the possibility that once he fully recovered, he could track her down, and John was in no mood to contemplate what Sebastian may have in store for her.

It was during this particular moment when John decided to take on the task of getting Sebastian out of town as soon as humanly possible. He wasn’t about to let Beloved come to harm now; he’d waited far too long to be reunited with her, only to have a jealous rival take her away from him forever. He laid the phone down on the bedside table, changed into a black t-shirt and pants, along with a pairs of black athletic shoes, and headed back upstairs.

—————————-

Reader’s POV…

You were sitting at the dining room table, poking through one of Aunt Helen’s old cookbooks when John entered the room.

“Hey, John…” you said, giving him a smile. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, pulling up a chair, and sitting next to you. “What are you doing?”

“Looking through one of Aunt Helen’s cookbooks, and brushing up on some of the basics of cooking a turkey,” you told him. “The last thing I want to do is burn up a perfectly good and expensive turkey. I don’t want to follow in my father’s footsteps in that regard.”

“Not a good idea. After all, you want to make a good impression on your sister,” he said, as a photo in the cookbook caught his eye. “What is this?”

You looked at the page for a moment, then said, “There’s several pies here in the photo. Let’s see… we have apple, peach and cherry, along with sweet potato and pumpkin.”

“The sweet potato and pumpkin pies look almost alike,” he marveled, “and the fruit pies look quite appealing.”

“I thought about getting a pie,” you confessed, “but I didn’t want to go overboard with the sweets. Don’t need to deal with five kids and a vampire after they’ve had a major sugar rush.”

“When did that happen?” John’s voice took on a tone of mocking indignation, “I don’t remember that at all.”

You laughed for a few moments, then continued, “It was three weeks ago when you fed from me, and I had a couple of pieces of dark chocolate. You said that my blood was so sweet and delicious, and that made me nervous.”

“I stopped feeding from you, and I checked to make sure you were okay,” he said, as the memory of that night came into sharp focus. “I was so scared that I was going to lose you... which is why I was running around the house like a crazy person, after I picked you up, and put you to bed.”

“But you didn’t lose me,” You took his hands in yours as you spoke, “I trusted you not to let me die, and you didn’t let me die. John… there’s so much that I don’t quite understand, especially these weird dreams I keep having, but I know that you care about me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have punched Sebastian’s lights out.”

“I wasn’t going to let him hurt you,” he said, gazing into your eyes, “When I saw you talking to him, you were afraid of him, and you wanted to get away from him. After you told me about him, I’m glad I hit him.”

“So am I.” You were silent for a moment, then you continued, “I was surprised to see him at the grocery store, though. Maybe it was pure coincidence that he was there, but I admit it’s still got me a bit shaken up.”

“Well, let’s hope we’ve seen the last of him,” John told you, as he teleased your hands, and turned his attention to the cookbook. “So, other than the turkey, what else were you going to serve?”

“I’m thinking about serving creamy mashed potatoes with chives and dill, along with four cheese macaroni and cheese,” you said, while thumbing through the pages of the cookbook. “That way, those who don’t like mac and cheese can have something different, or they can have both.”

“Sounds good,” he said, peering at a photo of beautifully arranged vegetables, “What about a vegetable?”

“Do you like broccoli, carrots and cauliflower?”

“Sure,” he said, “why do you ask?”

“I was going to served roasted broccoli, carrots and cauliflower, topped with garlic butter sauce,” you replied, while neatly folding the top right corner of the page. “Is that okay?”

“If you’re worried about my reaction to garlic, you should know that your aunt put garlic in almost everything,” John’s warm laugh filled the room, “so, after nine years of garlic mashed potatoes, roast chicken with rosemary and garlic, spaghetti with roasted garlic sauce, and meatloaf with garlic, I’m still here.”

You laughed along with him, then you said, “So, all those stories about vampires and garlic are…?”

“Absolutely not true,” he told you, “Don’t know how that story got started, or even why it got started, but it stuck.”

“You’ll have to tell me some more stories about your life sometime.” You closed the cookbook, and got up from the table. John also got up, and as you headed towards your bedroom, you turned to him and asked, “Are you going out this evening? You’re definitely Mr. Dress Casual tonight.”

“Not tonight, but tomorrow night, I may be out for a while,” he confessed, “Anyway, I’ve got a few things to sort out, so… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it. Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, Beloved,” With that, John turned off the ceiling light in the dining room, and he effortlessly blended into the shadows.

You entered your bedroom, and got yourself ready for bed. Once your head touched the pillow, you drifted off to sleep, while John was downstairs, hard at work planning his next assignment.


End file.
